


buy our vinyl in the back

by redvanjie



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Girl Band, Lesbian, background kim and naomi, band au, cis girl au, idk what i’m doing so, punk!katya, soft!trixie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvanjie/pseuds/redvanjie
Summary: trixie gets dragged into watching kim’s band’s gig. after putting up with an hour of punks in septum piercings and jean jackets, she just wants to go home- but the presence of a certain vampy-looking blonde might sway her to stay a little longer.





	1. Chapter 1

trixie’s head hurts. 

the bass pounds so hard, she feels like the whole venue might cave in at any moment. each beat of the drum makes her brain throb in her skull. an hour has passed since she dry swallowed two advils in the low light of a heavily graffitied bathroom stall, and the effects have been nonexistent. 

a stranger’s breath against her neck makes her shift uncomfortably, not that she has space to move in the packed crowd of punks in denim jackets and septum piercings. she clutches her beer tightly in her hand, feeling the can bend slightly under the pressure of her chipped pink nails. she closes her eyes for a moment to focus on the music, trying to tune out the clamour around her. 

she wouldn’t have come if it hadn’t been for the pleas of kim. trixie had had a rough day and she knew she would have an even rougher night if she agreed, but she didn’t want the guilt of letting down her friend that had been there for her countless times before. this is what she keeps reminding herself like a mantra in the dark, sweaty venue at 11:00 PM. 

she opens her eyes to see kim smiling at her band mates on stage. the pink of her tube top matches her eyeshadow, which kim probably spent too much time coordinating, as trixie knows. the whole band is head-turning and hot as hell; kim has a black denim skirt on and layered chain necklaces, giving an edge to her outfit, her dyed, pale blue hair being the cherry on top. 

trixie had helped her pick out that outfit earlier in the day: they were in kim’s apartment, clothes on every surface of her crammed bedroom, when trixie’s eyes were drawn in by the velvet pink material of the tube top and she fell in love. kim promised to let her borrow it one day after the show.

the drummer, a tall, lean girl with hair to her waist, is naked aside from a black bralette and red pleather skirt. she’s accessorized with a grommet belt around her waist, red hair clips, and most remarkably, red 90’s sunglasses. naomi, trixie assumes, based on kim’s lengthy description, full of words like “stunning” and “cool” and “perfect”. the two of them exchange smiles and glances every now and then, and trixie can’t help but smirk like a middle schooler who just found out her friend’s crush. 

the singer might be the most eye-catching of all, with a certain quality trixie can’t place that commands the room. her long, black hair is reminiscent of a bird’s nest, and she’s in a leather jacket over a red tube top with a pair of ripped black shorts and even more ripped fishnets. her heavy eye makeup and multiple piercings make her look like the poster child for punk, so she knows immediately that it’s adore. trixie’s eyes are glued to her: she winks to the crowd, moves around on stage- it’s clear she’s really having a good time with it, trixie thinks, and she knows how to put on a show.

to the left of the stage is the last member of the band, the guitarist: a blonde in a lacy, burgundy tank top, black and red plaid pants, doc martens, and red-lensed oval glasses. out of the four performers, she’s the least attention-grabbing, but something about her is almost magnetic to trixie.

suddenly, all she can focus on is the way the girl strums her dark red electric guitar, how her fingers switch between chords, her bright red lips slightly agape in concentration. adore could light a firecracker on stage (as she probably has at some point) and trixie would miss the whole thing. 

the song ends with a final high note from adore, and the crowd erupts into cheers. trixie is abruptly reminded of her headache, muttering a quiet “fuck” under her breath. 

“we’re laugh gas!” shouts adore into the microphone over the cheering audience. she smiles giddily, and trixie catches a bit of lipstick on her teeth. “thank you for coming out tonight, buy our vinyl in the back!” 

the room starts to shift and move, the crowd filing towards the door impatiently. trixie struggles towards the front to meet kim, pushing against the impossible force of a hundred strangers trying to go home. 

finally, kim reaches towards her and grabs her hand tightly. she whisks her backstage, following the other three girls through the black curtains behind them. 

“that was amazing!” says trixie, trying to ease into the subject of going home as they pace down a narrow hallway. it’s poorly lit, like the rest of the bar. 

“thanks,” says kim a little absentmindedly, more focused on getting backstage as fast as possible. she suddenly whips around to look at trixie.

“stay and meet the band!” pleads kim. in the dim light of the hallway, trixie can see that her pink eyeshadow is starting to crease, and little beads of sweat have formed on her forehead. 

trixie already knows she will, even though every ounce of her being is screaming not to- to go home, put on some fuzzy socks, and watch an episode of gilmore girls. she knows that won’t happen, because instead, she’ll stay in the basement of this dumpy bar in the shitty lighting and try to make half-hearted conversation with kim’s friends that are too cool for her anyways. for kim, she’ll do it. 

“please, they’ve been dying to meet you!” continues kim, rambling on. trixie’s last three brain cells tune it out.

“fine,” says trixie, cutting her off. kim smiles from ear to ear. her foundation creases.  
“but you owe me big time.”

the green room is small, as expected, with a couple of old leather couches that look like they were taken from someone’s driveway with a piece of paper saying “FREE” on them. in the middle is a small wooden table with a couple of half-empty beer bottles and unused flyers for the show. some of the lights are pink, creating a weird rosy glow around the room. the band’s equipment and cases are piled into the corner, and trixie anticipates that that won’t change for at least an hour. 

kim and naomi flop over onto one of the couches, adore and the bassist taking up the love seat nearby. trixie gingerly sits next to kim, crossing her legs and fiddling with the hem of her jean skirt self-consciously.

“guys,” begins kim. “this is trixie, my friend i was telling you about.” trixie sheepishly smiles and waves.

naomi extends a manicured hand out towards a shy trixie. her fingers are slender and long, complete with pointy, dark red acrylics.  
“naomi. so nice to meet you.” if she weren’t smiling, trixie would assume she was being sarcastic based on the flatness of her voice. trixie only shakes her hand for a moment before adore butts in.

“hey girl, i’m adore. i love your shirt,” she slurs before taking a swig of beer.  
“o-oh, thanks,” stutters trixie, looking down at her pastel pink crop top with a little rose on the chest. she recalls buying it from a vintage store in the city for more than it’s worth.

a new voice rings out- low, and slightly raspy.  
“i’m katya,” says the blonde, leaning her cheek against her hand. katya. that’s right, thinks trixie, remembering from all the stories kim has told her time and time again. 

“nice to meet you,” responds trixie, keeping eye contact. katya looks her up and down properly, scrutinizing her from her worn air force ones up to her wavy blonde hair. trixie shifts her weight uncomfortably on the couch, avoiding katya’s gaze. her eyes rest on her nails as she picks at the polish and pretends not to notice. 

thankfully, kim breaks the silence.  
“so, do you guys have any plans for this week?”

the conversation is casual, everyone already being worn out from the show. adore cracks jokes, kim and naomi make sly comments, and katya laughs along. trixie pipes up every once in a while, and the band listens, but her mind is elsewhere. partially spacing out, she wonders how much longer it’ll be before she can go home and curl up in her bed with a cup of chamomile tea. 

it’s about forty-five minutes later before adore pulls out her phone; it’s heavily cracked with a cow-print case. her brows furrow in thought.

“guys, i’m gonna have to call it a night,” she says, regret in her voice.  
“i’m picking bianca up from the airport at 7 tomorrow morning.” trixie isn’t sure who bianca is but assumes kim will elaborate later. 

kim, naomi, and katya call out their goodbyes as adore packs up the microphone, grabs her pin-covered backpack and leaves, hauling her gear along with her.

before trixie can speak up to kim about leaving, kim leans into naomi’s ear and whispers something trixie can’t make out. naomi just nods in response, keeping eye contact. 

“alright, well, naomi and i are going to grab drinks,” says kim, giving trixie a look that signals it’ll just be the two of them. trixie nods at kim, the message received loud and clear. she’s heard kim rave on countless times about how cool and gorgeous and perfect naomi is; usually while hanging out in kim’s apartment, trixie absentmindedly flipping through a magazine with kim in the background. she hopes, for her own sake and kim’s, that her friend might finally strike lucky. 

kim and naomi pack up their respective instruments and gear. trixie takes a moment to close her eyes, trying to tune out the crashing and clanging in the background. she suddenly becomes very aware of how uncomfortable she is; the leather of the old couch stuck to her thighs, how her skirt hugs her waist  
too tight, the ache in her legs from standing for an hour in the tightly packed crowd, and of course, her headache. when she opens her eyes, kim is already grabbing her backpack. 

they bid their goodbyes, and kim’s voice disappears down the narrow hallway of the bar’s basement. 

trixie begins to collect herself, slowly reaching for her black jansport bag that had been put behind the couch at the beginning of the night. 

“leaving so soon?”

trixie looks up at katya, who’s still on the love seat with her legs crossed over one arm rest and her back to the other. 

she becomes acutely aware of the situation- she and this girl she has barely interacted with have been left alone together. trixie sees her way out; she could say she’s had a long day, help katya pack up the remainder of the equipment, and go home to the comfort of her bed. 

as much as part of her hates it, she knows she won’t do that. instead, she’ll stay in the low lit green room with the leather of the couch stuck to her thighs and her skirt pinching her waist too tight because there’s something about katya that makes it all go away. something electric. 

“i guess not,” says trixie, picking up her beer from the table. god knows she needs it. 

katya smiles, dimples forming in her cheeks.  
“good.”

they talk the time away, discussing the band, their upcoming gigs, katya’s favourite songs to play and which ones are a pain in the ass. trixie relaxes, to her own surprise. normally she keeps a close guard with strangers out of fear of judgement, but katya isn’t normal. she makes everything easy, listens when trixie talks, doesn’t look like she’s judging her constantly. 

the topic changes quickly, and with each trixie opens herself to katya a little more.

“where did you grow up?”

“do you pour the milk first, or the cereal?”

“have you ever lost someone?”

“what are your thoughts on aliens?”

eventually, katya stands up to stretch her legs and sits down next to trixie on the couch so that they aren’t so far apart. she extends her legs with her calves over trixie’s lap, her ankles crossed over the far armrest of the couch.

“do you mind?” asks katya, breaking the silence.

trixie tries to collect herself.  
“not at all.”

it’s later than trixie planned, but as worn out as she feels she doesn’t want to leave. their conversation becomes mostly her asking questions and listening to katya ramble on, which neither of them mind. katya’s talkative when there’s someone willing to listen, and trixie is more than willing. she watches intently as katya’s eyes light up talking about things that excite her, how she twirls her wavy hair between her fingers when she starts to get off topic. it’s mesmerizing.

finally, katya asks “how do you know kim?”

“oh, we met in high school,” trixie yawns, the beer already numbing her to self-doubt and shyness. “we were both pretty nerdy, so we mostly stuck together.” katya giggles. for a moment, trixie almost assumes she’s laughing at her. 

“that’s so cute,” she laughs. trixie’s cheeks redden. 

“is it?”

“yeah, i can just imagine you as like, an awkward little 15 year old.”

trixie laughs, a hint of nervousness in her tone.

“high school was tough,” she says, changing the subject. “i never had that many friends, but kim has always been there for me.” trixie scoffs, reflecting on the long passed days of being a teenager, and how glad she is that they’re over.  
“i didn’t even have my first kiss until after i graduated,” she chuckles sadly. 

katya furrows her brows.  
“the guys at your school must’ve been jackasses,” she scoffs.

trixie looks down at her hands and sighs, squeezing the tips of her acrylics into her palm.

“girls.”

“oh.”

when trixie looks up, she’s expecting to see a familiar expression- one she’s seen in the faces of people that claim to be allies, who’s brains short circuit when she proposes the concept that she likes girls. 

instead, she’s smiling. 

“well, either way that doesn’t make any sense to me,” she scoffs, pulling her legs onto the floor off of trixie’s lap. 

without thinking, trixie blurts out a response. “why not?”

“because,” begins katya, keeping steady eye contact and slowly moving closer toward her so that their thighs press together. trixie suddenly notices how blue her eyes are, even in the dumpy lighting. they’re sunken, her mascara smudging around them, and they look like the healing crystals trixie keeps in her room. “if i had gone to your high school, there’s no way i would’ve let that happen.”

trixie’s heart quickens in her chest.  
“shut up, there’s no way you actually mean that.” 

“wanna make me?” katya slides her hand onto the top trixie’s thigh, and then inside. 

normally, trixie would never do something like this- she doesn’t even know katya’s last name. she’s not sure whether it’s the advance, the several bottles of beer, her half-conscious state of mind, or a combination of all three, but something inside of trixie is different that night.

so she leans in and presses her lips into katya’s.

katya flinches a little in shock, but quickly relaxes like she knows exactly what she’s doing, pressing her hand onto trixie’s cheek. trixie breaks away, looking at katya with hooded eyes. 

“that’s better.”

katya doesn’t respond before quickly leaning down to press her lips into trixie’s neck, sucking softly between her teeth. she shifts over so that she’s on top of trixie, straddling her thigh with her hands on her stomach under her shirt. she slides one of them down, fingers fumbling at the zipper of her skirt while still pressing her thigh into trixie.

trixie’s eyes go in and out of focus. the next morning, she might panic. hooking up with a stranger? is she out of her mind? katya might never contact her again. she might prove to be less empathetic than she had shown, and trixie might never see her after tonight.  
all these things, plus a hundred more cross trixie’s mind as she stares into pink lights on the ceiling. but soon enough, katya’s touching her and kissing her and she doesn’t know what’ll happen tomorrow but this is exactly where she wants to be tonight. 

because in that moment, there’s something about katya that trixie can feel, coursing through her body, and sparking from them like a fire into the musky air of the bar’s basement.

something electric.


	2. Chapter 2

trixie feels fucked. mentally and physically.

the events of last night keep playing over and over in her head- from kim’s show to sitting with the girls backstage, it all adds up, until she gets to the part where her and katya are alone. 

if she had gone home that night instead of passing out on the couch with katya laying on top of her, she would’ve assumed the whole thing was some kind of weird fever dream. but she can’t, because she woke up in the same spot, slightly crushed under the weight of the smaller blonde. 

she didn’t want to wake katya, so the alternative was to wait. she watched as her chest rose up and down so peacefully, and almost fell back asleep when suddenly she felt katya’s legs shifting on top of hers. her mascara smudged eyes opened slowly to look at trixie, and they were just as blue as she remembered. 

“how long have you been awake?” croaked katya, rubbing her left eye and smudging the mascara on her face even more, as well as onto her closed fist.

“couple minutes,” trixie lied. she had no clue how long it had been, but it certainly wasn’t a couple of minutes.

“i didn’t want to wake you.”

katya smirked with glinting eyes.  
“were you watching me sleep?”

“what else was i supposed to do with your heavy ass on top of me?” trixie laughed. 

the two of them peeled themselves off the couch, katya getting off of trixie first. trixie groaned in discomfort as the smaller blonde’s knee hit her stomach, and katya profusely apologized, helping her to her feet. she stretched out her arms, feeling her muscles tighten from lying down in that position for so long.

they collected their stuff that had been left all across the room, and trixie helped katya pack up her bass guitar and amp. they exchanged sweet goodbyes, and that was that. 

trixie is practically kicking herself. why didn’t she get katya’s number? 

“shit,” she curses, for no one to hear except the hula girl on the dashboard of her car. if she ever wanted to see katya again she’d have to go through kim. 

but she figures that’s a future trixie kind of problem. for now, all she wants is to take a shower.

-

trixie’s apartment is small, as any 22 year old’s apartment in LA is. it’s a little cluttered, and there’s something left unfinished everywhere you look. it’s clear it belongs to her- from the lana del rey cds to the stray tubes of mascara left on random surfaces.

she fumbles with the keys before the door opens. she quickly paces over to her couch, and flops over stomach down with a deep sigh. she wishes she could stay like that forever, half-conscious and completely relaxed, but she can feel the grease in her hair and the caked makeup on her face. so, she pulls herself to her feet with a groan and heads for the bathroom.

trixie wishes she could unsee what’s looking back at her in the mirror. her hair is tangly and matted- almost half as bad as adore’s was the night before. her mascara is smudged under her eyes like katya’s, and her lips are a canvas of pink and red: her own shade of lipstick and katya’s, respectively. her head reels at the thought of katya seeing her like this, although this morning wasn’t her best moment, either. 

she quickly undresses herself and throws her entire outfit in her laundry basket without a second thought. she steps into the shower and turns the water to steaming hot, and a soft groan escapes her lips when it hits her skin. she didn’t realize how sore her muscles were until now, though she’s glad to have been oblivious.

as she’s washing herself down, her eyes catch something blue-purple. they fall to her chest, where a cluster of bruises has appeared. trixie’s cheeks go hot as she remembers katya’s lips in each spot, when she notices a couple more between her thighs. 

she cranes her neck around her shower curtain, rubbing the spots on her chest with the pink washcloth. she’s not quite sure what she expected, but they stay there, as vivid as they were before. 

she’s not sure why, but she likes it- having a reminder of katya on her skin, like she belongs to her. 

after the shower, she puts on a bath robe and sits herself down on her bed with her phone in her hand. she takes a couple deep breaths and braces herself for the conversation she’s about to have, before dialing kim’s number.

she picks up on the fourth ring.

“hey girl! thank you so much for coming to the show yesterday. how did things go with katya after we left you guys?”

trixie chuckles flatly. “it was.. okay. i was actually calling to ask you for.. her number.” her voice is rough and croaky. 

“her number!?” exclaims kim. “clearly it went better than okay. so you guys hit it off, huh?”

trixie presses her free hand into her temple.   
“i mean, yeah, you could say that.” 

a gasp comes from the other end of the call.

“trixie elizabeth joanne mattel, did you hook up with my bassist?” kim’s voice is too enthusiastic for trixie, who woke up an hour and a half ago and is still a little hungover. she wonders how kim has so much energy after their show, and then going for drinks with naomi after still. 

“i knew you guys would hit it off, but i didn’t think you’d hit it off like that, i mean-” trixie’s brain tunes the rest out like a white noise machine. she loves kim, but she doesn’t have the energy for this conversation right now.

“so, kim. her number.”

“oh, yeah, let me get it out right now.”

and then with one last teasing squeal, some joke about wedding bells, kim hangs up.

for the next ten minutes trixie debates what to do with this information. she could text katya, or she could play it cool. somehow, she doesn’t want to do either. she ends up sending her a message after staring at it for ten seconds and deciding she hates it.

trixie: hey, is this katya? i hope kim gave me the right number, it’s trixie haha

trixie stares at her phone as if she’d reply within minutes. it doesn’t take long before she shuts it off, tosses it aside on her bed,   
and stands up to get dressed.

one hour since trixie sent the text, and she has gotten dressed, done her makeup a little, and watched half an episode of gilmore girls. she wants to look good, as usual, but in the scorching heat of the LA sun, all she can bring herself to wear is a pair of cheap black drawstring shorts and a loose hayley kiyoko t shirt. 

two hours later and she’s at trader joe’s buying avocados. every time her phone  
buzzes, her heart skips a beat. she knows it’s stupid, and very middle school at that, but she’s practically itching for katya to respond. she already considered the possibility that katya would never respond, leave her on read not wanting anything more than a one night stand. she could only hope it wasn’t the case. 

it’s two and half hours later, and she’s putting the trader joe’s bag of avocados and almond milk on the counter. trixie pulls her phone out and at the very top is the same number that kim had given her that morning.

katya: that’s me :) i had a really great time last night 

trixie’s stomach does a cartwheel into the splits. she types quickly, trying her best not to make typos and trusting autocorrect with the rest. 

trixie: me too, want to do it again sometime? 

her heart pounds as the speech bubble appears, and the taps her nails against the back of her phone as she waits.

katya: which part? ;)

a smirk curls onto trixie’s lips. 

trixie: whichever part u want ;))

katya: lmao well let me at least take u somewhere first  
katya: u like bubble tea?

-

trixie’s nervous, and she feels stupid about it.

it’s been two days since katya asked her out. they decided on a bubble tea place in the city, where katya apparently spends all of her money. trixie’s early by ten minutes, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

her outfit, a pastel graphic t shirt with a milk carton on it, her air force ones, and a a loose pair of high waisted jean shorts, had taken her half an hour to choose. and she still regrets it.   
she tugs at the hemline of her shorts and keeps an eye out for katya, standing in front of the bubble tea shop and feeling a little out of place.

at 2:00 on the dot, trixie’s eyes catch sight of a wavy haired blonde in a white t shirt, a brown plaid skirt, and a pair of doc martens. she feels relieved to not have to wait any longer, but her chest tightens and her palms sweat as the short blonde approaches her with a beaming smile. 

“hey, i hope you haven’t been waiting long. let’s go inside.” her voice is raspy, like trixie remembers, but with a soft edge. she follows katya into the little shop, and the bell on the door rings as they enter. there’s a cheerful atmosphere and everything is in a pastel colour, so trixie feels right at home. 

“everything is so cute,” she laughs, and katya smiles up at her. 

“yeah, i thought you’d like it.”   
trixie’s heart flutters a little. she smiles back at katya on the border between flustered and friendly before looking to the menu. 

katya orders a mango slush from the tired looking employee and insists on paying for trixie’s drink as well, to which she tries to resist bashfully. 

“i feel bad,” she whispers. katya doesn’t listen. 

“don’t, i asked you out. it’s my treat.”   
trixie stops arguing and orders a taro milk tea. she promises herself she’ll pay her back one day. 

they grab their tea a couple minutes later- one yellow-orange and the other lavender purple. katya sits down at a table with two chairs, and trixie follows suit.

her cherry red lips wrap around the straw of her drink, taking a lengthy sip and keeping eye contact with the taller blonde.  
“i’ve been getting really into the strokes lately. have you listened to them?”

trixie’s shoulders relax. she remembers how easily katya can ease into conversation like it’s nothing, talking about the most meaningless things and making them seem interesting and deep. 

“no, i haven’t. should i try them?” she responds, taking a sip of the sweet tea and getting a mouth full of soft pearls.

“yeah, i don’t really know what kind of music you listen to but they’re kind of like our band.”

“they must be pretty good, then,” she smirks.

katya laughs, soft and genuine.  
“they’re way better. i promise,” she responds with a little scoff. “anyways, i bought their record about a week ago and it’s all i’ve been listening to.”

trixie’s eyes light up.  
“i have a record player, too.” she suddenly feels stupid, reaching for the slightest similarity to keep the conversation afloat. not that it was even sinking in the first place. but to her relief, katya blinks interestedly.

“oh, sweet! they’re so expensive. i spent, like, three gigs worth in money on mine and it’s only decent.” trixie nods. hers had been bought when she worked in retail, and so many shifts had gone towards the pink and blue record player in her apartment.

“well, in that case, i can let you borrow my record.”

trixie’s brows furrow.   
“i cant let you do that! you just said you’ve had it on repeat for a week!”

“yeah, exactly. i’m getting sick of it,” laughs katya.

“you just payed for my bubble tea!”

“listen, i told you not to worry about it.“

trixie sighs. katya is impossible, as she realizes. 

“fine, but you have to let me pay you back one day.”

a smile slowly curls onto katya’s lips, and she raises her dark eyebrows at trixie. “does that mean i’m getting a second date?” 

trixie smiles around the straw of her bubble tea. she shrugs teasingly, and katya just shakes her head. 

“what a tease.”

they finish their tea, talking casually just like they did the night of the concert. trixie tells katya about her plans for her future, katya tells trixie she doesn’t have plans for the future. they talk about anything and everything, and trixie’s not sure why she was worried in the first place.

“so,” says katya, standing up to throw away her empty bubble tea cup. “want to come back to mine to pick up that record?”

trixie isn’t sure where this is going, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious.  
“sure.”

they throw out their cups and leave, the bell ringing on the way out. 

it’s a ten minute walk to katya’s, which is an apartment just like trixie’s. the sun starts to hit just before they get inside to the comfort of air conditioning. to trixie’s relief, they take the elevator up to the sixth floor where katya lives. the elevator in her own building has been under maintenance for months.

they enter katya’s apartment at the end of the hallway- it’s small, like trixie’s, simple, and surprisingly neat. everything follows the colour palette of black, brown, and grey. katya leads her by the hand to her bedroom, and the moment she steps inside, it’s like she enters a different dimension.   
it’s spacious as far as apartments go- the walls are dark grey, but she can barely tell because they’re covered in posters. wallows, weezer, the 1975, mac demarco, vampire weekend, the beatles, every indie band trixie’s ever heard of. the bed is white, half-heartedly made with sheet music laid out on it. there’s a dresser with laundry folded on top, and next to that is her record player. she has a couple records pinned to the wall, but most of them are stacked on her desk, and at the very top is the case for the strokes’ album. trixie takes it in as katya scrambles to put away the laundry on the dresser.

“sorry it’s kind of a mess,” she says, putting socks into a little drawer in her closet, which is full of black, plaid, ripped denim, and flannel, as far as trixie can see.

“i don’t mind,” she responds, her eyes following katya as she darts across the room. “mine’s worse.”

katya finally puts her effort to rest, picking up the strokes’ record from the top of the pile.  
“want to give it a listen?”

trixie nods her head, sitting down on katya’s bed gingerly. 

the short blonde puts the disc in the record player, and a couple bars of drum sound through her room before a guitar and a singer join in.

“under control,” says katya, nodding her head to the beat. she extends her arm and reaches out to trixie.   
“dance with me.”

trixie tries to fight back.  
“no way, i don’t dance, i-“ it doesn’t take long before she realizes katya’s not taking no for an answer. 

“that’s bullshit. come on, no one’s judging you.” 

trixie heaves a sigh and grabs katya’s hand, allowing her to pull her to her feet. she pulls the taller girl in, holding both of her hands in her own. it becomes apparent that neither of them really know what they’re doing, but katya doesn’t seem to care. they sway to the beat, katya lipsyncs the lyrics, trixie spins her and laughs. it’s a little stupid, which is fine. 

trixie watches how katya’s skirt twirls when she spins her, how her smile is so bright and her laugh is so warm. she notices how soft katya’s hands are against her own, and how she looks up at trixie when their eyes meet.

the song ends with a final guitar riff, and before the next one starts, katya pulls away from trixie’s arms and stops the track. she goes through her stack of records before picking out a white one that she recognizes. 

“daniel caesar,” says trixie. “i like his music.”

katya smiles.   
“me too.” 

the track starts, and trixie knows the song by heart. a slow waltz beat plays, and then a warm guitar riff and daniel caesar’s soft voice, singing the first verse of japanese denim. 

katya pulls trixie in again, this time with one arm around her waist and the her other hand interlaced with trixie’s. trixie follows suit and puts her hand on katya’s shoulder. they’re closer than before- their stomachs barely touch, and trixie can feel katya’s breath on her neck. katya leads them, stepping in time with the music as if they were ballroom dancing. trixie keeps her eyes up- she tells herself it’s to watch out for nearby furniture, but she knows it’s because the atmosphere has flipped on a dime, and she’s letting katya take control. 

when she looks down at the shorter blonde, her eyes are already on trixie, wide and honest. her heart takes flight in her chest. 

“you’re gorgeous.”

trixie doesn’t think twice before craning her neck down and pressing her lips against katya’s. the kiss is soft, gentle. she melts into katya’s touch, the two of them still swaying to the beat of the song. katya breaks away and leans further into trixie, pressing soft kisses against her neck. 

the whole thing is surreal- trixie feels like she’s floating, like soon something will weigh her down and bring her back to earth and none of it will have actually happened. 

“why are you so good to me?” she murmurs without thinking. katya starts to kiss a trail up her neck, past her chin, and onto her cheek until her lips are next to trixie’s ear and she has to stand on her tip toes. she speaks in the softest whisper; it’s almost inaudible under the music in the background, but trixie can just make out her words.

“baby, i’m just getting started.”

that’s all it takes before they’re kissing again, but the softness from before is replaced with an urgency. they’ve stopped swaying; the music becomes white noise to trixie as he focus shifts completely over to katya’s hands, katya’s waist, katya’s lips. she takes control a little, stepping forwards and guiding katya until her legs bump gently against her desk. she slides herself on top of it, keeping her arms wrapped around trixie’s neck. she grabs the hemline of trixie’s t shirt and pulls it over her head, leaving her in a lacy white bra. katya’s practically drooling at how the white fabric cups her tits perfectly, how it makes her look so soft.

she takes off her own t shirt and throws it aside, exposing her own dark red bra. trixie leans in, kissing the skin on katya’s chest and sucking just enough so that she’s on the border between pleasure and pain. she slides her fingers into the waistband of katya’s schoolgirl skirt, shimmying down her thighs and around her ankles. she pulls away from katya and gently drops to her knees so that her head is between katya’s thighs. the smaller blonde looks down at her with a certain intrigue on her face, raising an eyebrow.

“i told you i’d pay you back.”

katya lets trixie take control, pulling her lacy black underwear down and pressing a slow, wet trail of kisses up katya’s thigh. she gasps when trixie pulls away, just before she’s where katya needs her. her thighs twitch in anticipation and she laces her slender fingers in trixe’s soft hair, pulling a little, but she doesn’t mind. she’s losing patience, and trixie can tell. 

she lets katya want for it for a couple more minutes, her breath quick and needy and her thighs clenched, before finally gives katya what she needs. she swipes her tongue over her clit once to test the waters, and katya lets out the prettiest little whimper she’s ever heard. her hands grasp tighter in trixie’s hair as she continues to eat her out, keeping steady eye contact. 

katya’s back arches as trixie goes faster, harder, deeper, determined to take her where she wants to go. something churns beneath her stomach when katya moans louder, pulls harder, pushes further into trixie desperate for more. 

trixie pulls away just as she knows katya’s close. it’s cruel- she can see it in katya’s desperate, blown-out eyes that are gleaming in anticipation.

she slides a hand up her thigh, pressing her fingers inside and bringing her lips back down. katya’s past the point of moaning- her breath is short and ragged, and she’s rocking her hips against trixie’s hand.

“come for me,” she breathes, and katya does, her nails digging into trixie’s neck and a ragged moan escaping through her clenched teeth.

trixie pulls her fingers from a quivering katya, and shifts around on her knees that ache from kneeling underneath her for so long. katya catches her breath, still sitting on the desk above trixie. she smiles down at her, as bright and beaming as ever, before leaning over to press a soft kiss to trixie’s forehead. her smudged red lipstick leaves a faint mark, as trixie can feel, but she doesn’t mind. she looks up at katya, who’s gaze is still fixed on her, and their eyes meet, and for a second they look at each other, perfectly still, before katya breaks the silence. 

“now i have to let you borrow that record.”


End file.
